


Love on the Rocks

by pamdizzle, tprillahfiction



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Advent Challenge 2012, Cuddling, Embedded Images, Hand Jobs, K/S Advent Calendar, M/M, cold cave, fluffy porn sort of...okay--very, ks advent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-22
Updated: 2013-11-22
Packaged: 2018-01-02 09:15:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,918
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1055057
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pamdizzle/pseuds/pamdizzle, https://archiveofourown.org/users/tprillahfiction/pseuds/tprillahfiction
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tprillahfiction isn't actually a co-author, but she did all the art for this last year so I figured I would link her and give her a second big Thank You for working with me on this last year. :) <3 </p><p>This was a prompt fill for the K/S Advent 2012 on livejournal, wherein Jim and Spock are stranded in a cave--a really, really cold cave. :)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Love on the Rocks

 

Cold Cave K/S Advent Challenge        

Jim surveyed the bridge with a sense of pride. Here they were a year and a half into their mission, discovering new worlds, boldly going and once again awaiting the fruits of their efforts. They’d been tasked with exploring a section of terrain on a Class O planet, one that hadn’t even been named yet. Of course, if the scans the Endeavor took three months ago were any indication—which was the reason the Enterprise was here following up and taking a closer look—then that would probably change very soon. The images captured by the long range scanners had glimpsed what appeared to be an ancient, abandoned site of civilization.     

The Federation’s top anthropologists believed that the landmarks captured in the images—stones and trees mostly—were arranged in such a way to suggest a system of organizational behavior. Of course, the only way one achieved organizational behavior in an environment that otherwise should adhere to chaos is if intelligent life existed to employ it upon their surroundings. Therefore, Starfleet had decided to send its flagship to investigate, which was fine by Jim. This was his favorite part of the job, and he knew for a fact he wasn’t alone in that regard.     

Habitually, he turned back to glimpse Spock’s reaction at the Science Station, except his Science Officer happened to be down on the planet so he glimpsed Chekov there instead. Damn, he should have put himself on the away team, Jim thought irritably, but he hadn’t wanted to get in the Vulcan’s way. He had a bad habit of inserting himself into landing parties that Spock was supposed to be leading, not because he didn’t trust his First Officer—he did, implicitly—but because he couldn’t stand waiting. He was impatient and petulant, Jim could admit it, and so he had been making a point of no interfering with these types of scientific missions and this one was no exception.     

Still, it was hard. Even now, he was tempted to launch himself into the transporter room and beam down just to see the surface for himself. He’d not yet been to a Class O world and he figured with water on all sides, it’d be a lot like going to Hawaii—tropical and sandy. At least, he imagined that’s what it would be like if it were the warm season right now where they were investigating. As it was, they were pretty close to its colder period. Jim’s fingers itched to comm Spock and ask for an update, but he refrained. It had only been about half an hour since Spock’s initial call to inform that the landing party had successfully located the site of the landmarks. Jim could tell from the particular tone of Spock’s voice—lighter and slightly less formal—that the Vulcan was down there having a blast.     

Jim smiled, imagining that look Spock got when he was scanning something he’d never seen before. He’d be singularly focused on the subject of his scans, eyes flitting back and forth between it and his tricorder, his mind taking only seconds to compare its properties with other already-known specimens. Spock seemed to enjoy informing Jim when he came across something relatable to Earth or Vulcan and Jim enjoyed hearing it. In fact, he enjoyed Spock in general. Their chess games, their conversations, the adventures they’d had together and the way they read each other like an open book and how nobody else got to see the Vulcan the way he did.

 

    

 

The attraction shouldn’t have caught him off guard the way it had…he should have expected it, but Jim had never before felt so connected to another person and so when he found himself hard under the table, sitting across the chessboard from Spock, he’d had a very quiet, mental freak out. It was his hands, Jim had realized. He’d been focusing on Spock’s hands…the way they gracefully grazed over the tip of each piece before he moved them, the length of his fingers and the memory of them, far older, but still the same, as they pressed in points against his face. It wasn’t just a physical attraction either, which would have been easier to cope with, certainly. No, the problem was that he had come to know Spock, as a friend…as the most honorable and compassionate being he’d ever met.     

It wasn’t that Jim hadn’t recognized that he was falling, he just hadn’t realized how far until he found himself fantasizing about hands. Hands for Christ’s sake. God, how he wanted to touch them, do that finger kiss thing he’d seen on the new Vulcan colony a few months back…maybe pull them into his mouth to taste them, and suck…just a little…just enough to make Spock blush the way he’d seen only a few times, only in Jim’s presence…only with him.     

“Spock to Bridge,” Spock’s voice broke through his fantasy, just in the nick of time too.     

Jim crossed his legs inconspicuously and cleared his throat, “Yes, Mr. Spock. What do you have to report?”     

“The away team has concluded its preliminary investigation of the site,” he answered. “It does indeed appear to be a remnant of a long extinct civilization, Captain.”     

“Fascinating,” Jim teased good-naturedly.     

“Indeed,” the smile in Spock’s voice was unmistakable, “we have even discovered what could potentially be a language system, carved into the surface of a nearby cave.”     

Jim sat up a little higher in his chair, “That is interesting. Are you able to discern any of it.”     

“Not presently,” Spock replied immediately, “however, I request permission to stay behind the rest of the away team in order to complete my scans of the carvings for later analysis and, perhaps, translation.”     

“Permission granted,” Kirk responded. “Maybe it will tell us what became of the inhabitants. I’ll meet you there.”     

“Sir?”     

“Have your team return to the ship. I’m coming down to take a look around, Mister Spock,” Jim expounded. “Can’t let you have all the fun. Kirk out.” Jim was out of his chair and headed for the turbolift with a bounce in his step, “Sulu, you have the conn.”     

“Aye-aye, sir,” Sulu took up the center seat, a firm grin in place, something he had in common with the rest of the faces on the bridge. There was hardly anything more entertaining on the Enterprise than bearing witness to the interplay between its Captain and Commander.

\--

 

    

 

“So…what have we got?” Jim asked, ducking under the arch of the cave and approaching his First.     

Spock looked up from his tricorder, unsurprised that Jim had apparently wasted no time in joining him on the surface. He understood, even though they had not spoken of it aloud, that Jim had purposely been abstaining from joining landing parties led by himself in order to promote the concept of a ‘united front’ as humans liked to say. Spock knew the Captain’s attempt at displaying confidence in his leadership was logical, but that did not mean he had to like it. Spock enjoyed Jim’s company as well as his unorthodox insights which typically added a depth to their findings that those of a scientific mind, Spock included, would often tend to overlook.     

A warmth bloomed in his side at the Kirkian grin and excited blue eyes staring down at him, “Pieced it all together yet, Mister Spock?”     

Spock felt the corners of his lips twitch as he regarded his Captain and, more so than that in this moment with just the two of them, his friend, “I am attempting to do so, however, there are some carvings which appear similar to those of ancient Vulcan and Romulan alphabet characters.”     

Spock went on to explain the various aspects of each symbol, indicating which ones were most similar to either language. “It is quite possible, Captain, that we have just found a ‘missing link’ so to speak between the common ancestry of Vulcans and Romulans.”     

When no immediate response followed, Spock looked up from his tricorder to see Jim gazing at him with open wonder, an expression that always managed to do indescribable things to his stomach. “Jim?” he questioned in an attempt to pull the Human’s attention outward once more.     

Jim smiled at him warmly, “Sorry, it’s just…you never cease to amaze me. You’ve only been down here for an hour and you’re already breaking it down…forming a hypothesis…” he shook his head, “You really are brilliant.”     

Spock fought to control the expansion of capillaries in his face, an involuntary physiological reaction to the swell of affection and self-awareness Jim’s words stirred within. In an attempt to quell the rising emotion, Spock began to reply that Vulcans not only possessed eidetic memory, which aided in his comparative abilities, but also the ability to process information forty percent more quickly than that of humans and therefore making praise illogical, since these factors were due to his particular genetics, rather than any special talent on his part. He opened his mouth…     

“Do you hear that?” Jim turned his head suddenly, back toward the entrance of the cave.     

There was a low rumble, followed by a loud clap of thunder. “Indeed,” Spock replied and they both quickly made their way back to the cave’s entrance. It was an ion storm, and he knew, without having to pay attention to Jim’s attempt to comm. the ship that they were going to have to remain there until the storm passed. It was dangerous, even when a storm was not strong enough to render it impossible, to use a transporter during an ion storm. The interference was such that maintaining a lock on a target’s signature had an eighty-eight point seven percent chance of failure, if a lock was possible to establish at all.     

“Well, looks like we’re stuck here for a while,” Jim confirmed.     

“Approximately four point three-seven hours,” Spock estimated, “given current projected wind speeds.”     

Jim gave him a devilishly handsome smile, chuckling softly, “Approximately, huh?”     

“The planet’s oceanic composition, coupled with its lunar tidal system allow for a fairly accurate calculation—”     

“Never mind,” Jim interrupted good-naturedly. “I don’t need to know. Come on, it’s getting drafty over here by the door.”     

“A cave mouth is not actually a door—”     

“You know what I mean, smart ass,” Jim called over his shoulder as he retreated to the back of the cave, Spock following closely behind, a humorous glint in his eyes.

Xxx Two Hours Later xxX     

Damn, it had gotten frigid in a hurry. Jim eyed the boulder set between he and Spock as it slowly lost the cherry red glow they had given it with their phasers. Each charge lasted around twenty minutes, and it took three minutes of constant fire to heat the stone enough that it would give off heat. Needless to say, their weapons were quickly losing their juice. Speaking of which, Jim turned his attention to his ever-innovative friend. Those hands with which Jim was so thoroughly besotted were toiling away with purpose at the inner circuitry of their phasers.     

Spock had determined that he could possibly attain a seven percent increase of output energy with their last charge, causing the rock to stay heated for approximately five point seven minutes longer than average, with a few modifications. It was hard to watch, really. Spock’s core body temperature adhered to Vulcan norms, unfortunately, which meant he operated better in warmer conditions. Jim, having a seven degree advantage in the warmth department, and being as cold he was, even with the stone still heated, was fairly certain that Spock had to be freezing.     

Those dexterous fingers, usually so sure and steady, were moving with a rigidity that wasn’t typical of Spock. His Vulcan friend was visibly shivering, and for what? An extra five minutes? If Spock’s calculations were correct, and they almost always were, they would be out of here in less than two hours. An extra few minutes of heated stone really wasn’t worth so much discomfort…He’d hate to see those nimble fingers needlessly frostbitten.     

Determined, Jim rose to his feet and stealthily crept up to where Spock sat, Indian style, head bent to his task. Jim slowly lowered himself to a crouch behind him, his arms reaching around the Vulcans back, his hands coming to rest lightly around either of Spock’s wrists, “Just stop, Spock,” he said quietly, his voice a bit huskier than he would have liked. “By the time you’ve got that thing reconfigured, they’ll be beaming us out of here. You’re freezing.” His thumbs stroked over the underside of each wrist simultaneously, as if to emphasize that point, “Just…come get warm.”

    

He could tell by Spock’s stiffened posture that he was weighing the logic of Jim’s words, and that allowing such close proximity between them would probably be a large concession on Spock’s part. He attempted to fight down the wave of sadness that came with that knowledge, the fact that no matter how deeply he might feel for the Vulcan that his regard, at least in that context, would be neither welcomed nor returned. He shoved those feelings aside; now wasn’t the time. When Spock’s blue-clad shoulders relaxed, he knew his frigid Science Officer had capitulated.     

“Very well,” Spock non-sighed. Jim smiled fondly, despite himself, and casually took the phaser from Spock’s icy hands. He aimed it at the rock and fired until it was once again glowing bright orange. They’d have enough for two more charges—max, but it didn’t matter. The storm would clear less than an hour afterward and they’d be beamed back to the comfort of the environmentally controlled Enterprise.     

Cautiously, avoiding Spock’s skin for fear of causing him additional discomfort, Jim seated himself fully behind his First Officer. He wrapped his arms around Spock’s shoulders, and his legs around his waist, sharing as much of his body heat as physically possible. “Okay?” He asked quietly.     

Spock gave a slight nod and Jim felt like an asshole, because even though he was trying to push the attraction aside, he couldn’t help but revel in their closeness. How many times had he fantasized about being able to do just this—touch Spock, hold him close and…yes, damn it, cuddle? He closed his eyes and focused on why this was necessary—Spock was cold, he needed to keep him warm, Spock was his friend. Don’t be an ass, he chided himself. Spock was a touch telepath and close proximity to anyone was a burden on his telepathic shields, and Jim knew this, had been given that lecture by the man himself and he damn sure shouldn’t take pleasure in something he knew his friend couldn’t possibly be enjoying.     

It was utterly silent in the cave, and that silence was growing heavier and heavier with awkwardness with each passing moment. Jim’s neck was starting to strain as he resisted the urge to lay his forehead between Spock’s shoulder blades, or rest his chin on his shoulder. Finally, Spock’s voice broke the silence.     

“Captain,” he intoned, “if you have no objections, I believe I shall enter into light meditative state in order to more effectively regulate my body in defense against the cold.”     

“Sure,” Jim said, his tone forcefully casual, “do whatever you need to do. I’ll keep the rock heated.” Without further ado, Spock took a deep breath, his back expanding pleasantly against Jim’s chest and then went completely still. Wish I could do that…     

Jim sat there for what felt like hours, but what couldn’t have been more than forty minutes, as he’d already depleted the rest of the phasers’ energy on the stone, still glowing brightly from the final charge. He long admitted defeat to the kink in his neck, and was now comfortably resting his head against the back of Spock’s left shoulder. He was tired…the cold in the cave taking its toll on his body too. At least sharing body heat seemed to be working well enough. He hoped it was still enough when the boulder cooled down completely. His eyes began to blink with exhaustion and before he had time to realize it, Jim had nodded off to sleep.

\--     

…mmmm…Spock…     

A distant, but familiar voice intruded quietly into his subconscious. The sensation was quickly followed by a distant awareness of another’s body pressed tightly against his own. Soft caresses—lips—against the sensitive skin of his neck, wonderfully warm hands clutching at the fabric of his shirt and hardness wedged firmly between his buttocks and against his lower back, undulating into him slowly…lovingly…sensually…     

Spock’s eyes snapped open, his heart racing in his side at the feel of the aroused body behind him…of Jim, quite obviously only half-conscious and unaware of his actions if the drowsy non-thoughts seeping through his weakened shields were any indication. He jerked in shock when a wet mouth closed over his ear lobe, sucking and licking, his own phallus hardening in response before he could gather enough control to stop it. Spock’s reaction must have been enough to rouse Jim from his sleep as he felt the human flinch against his back.     

Immediately emotions began to flow between the points of contact of their skin. At first, there was only confusion and a strong impression of intense affection. Then, as full consciousness set in, tendrils of shock, panic, shame, guilt, longing, desire, guilt, shame, guilt, wanting…so much wanting and so much suffering. A sense of never being fulfilled. A sense of rejection so intense that it made Spock’s side physically ache. A flood of Jim’s surface thoughts fluttered over Spock’s consciousness, pleasebemeditatingpleasebemeditating…FuckIamsuchanass…     

Spock found it highly illogical that all this time they had both wanted more and yet neither of them had acted, both believing rejection was inevitable. No longer, he decided, throwing all logical arguments in the against aside, he shrugged off the embrace of his Captain…his friend—the person he had cherished above all others for so long—and used his inhuman strength to pull Jim around and into his lap. He then pushed Jim’s back down against the cave floor. Before the Human could utter so much as a word, he claimed the lips he’d longed for in a kissed filled with unhinged Vulcan desire.    

For indeterminable moments, Jim was unmoving beneath him, frozen and unresponsive, his mind a total blank. Spock began to think that perhaps he had misread…perhaps Jim had been fantasizing about someone else. Worried, he began to pull back, only to be halted by Jim’s arms as they wound around his neck and the movement soft lips which were now pliant and kissing him back, sucking on his tongue and pulling into that hot, human mouth. They swallowed each other’s moans, two sets of hands caressing and exploring as much of the other as possible. When they finally broke apart for air, Jim throwing his head back to suck in vast quantities of oxygen, Spock attacked the newly exposed skin of his neck with tongue and teeth, eager to taste as much of Jim as possible.     

“Oh, God, Spock,” Jim panted, his hips arching up, pressing the firm length of his cock against Spock’s abdomen. Yes, Spock signed inwardly, his hands sliding to Jim’s waistband to unclasp his pants. Jim immediately froze again, “Wait!”     Spock paused his activities, perplexed. He brought his gaze to meet with Jim’s wild, dilated eyes, “Do you not wish—”     

“No, no,” Jim half-panted, half-chuckled, “I wish, Spock. There’s nothing I want more.” Jim gestured with his head at their surroundings, “But we can’t do this here, what if—”     

“The are forty point six-eight minutes remaining until the ion storm will pass and the Enterprise will once again be able to communicate with us,” Spock interrupted, his hands once again working the fastenings of Jim’s trousers. “In the interim, our phasers’ power cells are wholly depleted and the boulder on which we have been relying for warmth is losing the heat of its final charge quite rapidly. It is, therefore, only logical to continue our activities as the increase in physical exertion will result in mutually higher body temperatures.” Jim was staring at him, shocked, and Spock couldn’t resist the temptation to quirk and eyebrow and add, “Additionally, I am not amenable to the suggestion that we discontinue, as that would require me to stop touching you…”

\--     

Jim blinked, knowing his mouth was openly gaping, but never in his wildest dreams would he have imagined Spock arguing that having sex on the dirt floor of a cave, while technically still on duty, was completely logical. Still, it was a convincing argument,“You’re right…and also, please, don’t stop touching me…” When Spock finally freed him from his trousers and the fingers that he’d fantasized about for months wrapped around his cock, Jim couldn’t tear his eyes away or stop the groan that tore from his throat to bounce off the walls of the cave, echoing all around them.     

Spock was pressed up to his side, hands pumping his length, mouth licking and sucking at a particularly sensitive patch of skin behind his ear. Jim could feel the Vulcan’s erection rubbing against his hip and amazingly gathered enough presence of mind work it free as well. He pulled expertly on the alien length, squeezing just enough…just the way he knew his own cock liked, from base to tip, then down again, fingers playing teasingly over the Vulcan’s sack before pulling up once more. “Mmph…yesss…” Spock hissed into his ear. His hips rolled forward, to fuck into Jim’s hand and they turned toward one another simultaneously, open, panting mouths colliding wetly in slow, dizzying kisses.     

The tips of their cocks brushed together with every stroke, their pace quickening with each pull. Their free hands traversed wildly over one another, their bodies rocking toward release. It felt so good to be here, Jim thought, no longer cold or hesitant but hot and exposed, touched and touching. He pulled his mouth away so he could focus on Spock’s eyes, so full of desire and focused entirely on Jim. “God, I love you,” Jim whispered, unable to suppress the words. The expression in Spock’s eyes intensified, deepened and, fuck, he wanted this to last forever but there was no way…not with Spock looking at him like that…touching him…wanting him…     

“Fuuuck,” Jim breathed, exploding in Spock’s hand as his body seized in rapturous sensation overload, warm fluid shooting over them both. With a growl, Spock was rolling him over and removing his hand, grinding his cock against Jim’s wet, softening member. Jim pulled Spock’s lips to his and arched his body up to meet each of the Vulcan’s thrusts, giving him all the friction he needed. When Spock stiffened against him, crying out in release, Jim rocked him through his orgasm, hands stroking lovingly through soft, black hair, over and down his neck and back. They laid there together for several minutes, bodies recovering, basking in the shared warmth.     

By the time their communicators went off, some twelve minutes later, and Scotty’s brogue burst through the cave, Jim and Spock were once again composed as Captain and Commander ought to be. Their eyes met as the transporter beam began to take them home, and Jim knew that what they’d just found in this cold cave on an unnamed planet, would warm them for a very long time to come.

**Author's Note:**

> I also write original m/m erotica fiction, if you're interested. You can find it [here](http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/store/index.php?cPath=55_1117)


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